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Four Girls at Chautauqua

<h2 id="id00762" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XVII.</h2> <h5 id="id00763">GETTING READY TO LIVE.</h5> Amid the laughter that followed this retort the company rose up from the table and went their various ways, to meet, perhaps, again. "How on earth do you manage to keep so thoroughly posted in regard to Chautauqua affairs? One would think you were the wife of the private secretary. I shouldn't have known whether the gates were to be opened or closed to-morrow." This from Ruth as the two girls paced the long piazza while waiting for the carriage which was to take them to the boat; for, having exhausted the resources of Mayville for entertainment, they were about to return to Chautauqua. Marion laughed. "I'm here in the capacity of a newspaper writer, please remember," she answered promptly, "and what I don't know I can imagine, like the rest of that brilliant fraternity. I am not really positive about a great many of the statements that I made, except on the general principle that these people belong to the class who are very much given to doing according to their printed word. It says on the circulars that the gates will be closed on the Sabbath, and I dare say they will be. At least, we have a right to assume such to be the case until it is proven false." "What class of people do you mean who are given to doing as they have agreed? Christian people, do you refer to?" "Well, yes; the sort of Christians that one meets at such a gathering as this. As a rule, the namby-pamby Christians stay away from such places; or, if they come, they float off to Saratoga or some more kindred climate. I beg your pardon, Ruthie, that doesn't mean you, you know, because you are not one of any sort." "Then do you take it to be their religion which inclines you to trust to their word, without having an individual acquaintance with them?" Marion shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, bother!" she said, gayly, "you are not turning theologian, or police detective in search of suspicious characters, are you? I never pretend to pry into my notions for and against people and things; if I was betrayed into anything that sounded like common sense I beg your pardon. I am out on a frolic, and mean to have it if there is any such thing." "Well, before you go back into absolute nonsense let me ask you one more question. Do you really feel as deeply as you pretended to that man, on all these questions of the Chautauqua conscience? I mean, is it a vital point in your estimation whether people go there to church on Sunday or not?" Marion hesitated, and a fine glow deepened on her face as she said, after a little, speaking with grave dignity: "I do not know that I can explain myself to you, Ruth, and I dare say that I seem to you like a bundle of contradictions; but it is a real pleasure to me to come in contact with people who have earnest faith and eager enthusiasm over anything, and principle enough to stand by their views through evil and good report. In this way, and to a great degree, this meeting is a positive delight to me, though I know personally as little about the feeling from which they think their actions take rise as any mortal can. Does that answer satisfy you, my blessed mother confessor? or are you more muddled than ever over what I do, and especially over what I do not believe?" "If I believed as much as you do I should look further." Ruth said this with emphasis; and there was that in it which, despite her attempts to throw it off, set Marion to thinking, and kept her wonderfully quiet during their return trip. On the whole, the flight to Mayville was not viewed entirely in the light of a success. Ruth had been quiet and grave for some time, when she suddenly spoke in her most composed and decided voice: "I shall go to Saratoga on Monday, whether any one else will or not; I shall find plenty of friends to welcome me, and I shall take the morning train from here." But she didn't. Meantime Flossy's afternoon had been an uninterrupted satisfaction to her. She attended the children's meeting, and it was perfectly amazing to her newly awakened brain how many of the stories, used to point truths for the children, touched home to her. Dr. Hurlbut, of Plainfield, seemed to have especially planned his address for the purpose of hitting at some of the markedly weak points in her character, though no doubt the good man would have been utterly amazed had he known her thoughts. She listened and laughed with the rest over the story of the poor tailor who promised a coat to a customer for one, two and three weeks, heaping up his promises one on the other until he had a perfect pyramid of them, only to topple about his ears. She heard with the rest the magnificent voice ring out the solemn conclusion: "Children, he did not mean to lie. He did not even think he was a liar. He only broke his promises." They all heard, and I don't know how many shivered over it, but I do know that to Flossy Shipley it seemed as if some one had struck her an actual blow. Was it possible that the easy sentences, the easy promises, to "write," to "come," to "bring this," to "tell that," made so gracefully, sounding so kindly, costing so little because forgotten almost as soon as her head was turned away, actually belonged in that list described by the ugly word "lie." Flossy had been a special sinner in this department of polite wickedness because it just accorded with her nature; such promises were so easy to make, and seemed to please people, and were so easy to forget. Like the tailor, she hadn't meant to be a liar, nor dreamed that she was one. But her wide-open ears took it all in, and her roused brain turned the thought over and over, until, be it known to you, that that girl's happy pastor, when he receives from her a decided, "Yes, sir, I will do it," may rest assured that unless something beyond her control intervenes she will be at her post. So much did Dr. Hurlbut accomplish that afternoon without ever knowing it. There were many things done that afternoon, I suspect, that only the light of the judgement day will reveal. Over the story of the two workmen, who each resolved to stick to a certain effort for six months, and did it, the one earning thereby a patent right worth thousands of dollars, and the other teaching a little dog how to dance to the whistling of a certain tune, Flossy looked unutterably sober, while the laughter swelled to a perfect roar around her. It was hard to feel that not "six months" only, but a dozen years of intelligent life, were gone from her, and she had not even taught a dog to dance a jig! That was the very way she put it in her humility; and I do not say that she placed it too low, because really I don't know that Flossy Shipley had ever had even so settled a purpose in life as that! She had simply fluttered around the edge of this solemn business that we call living. But along with the sober thought glowed the earnest purpose: given another dozen years to my young lady's life and they will bear a different record; and whatever they bear, Dr. Hurlburt will be in a sense responsible for, though he never saw her and probably never will. Verily this living is a complicated bewildering thing Well for us that all the weight of the responsibility is not ours to bear. There was still another story, and over it Flossy's lips parted, and her eyes glowed with feeling. That wonderful machine that the most skillful workmen tried in vain to repair, that was useless and worthless, until the name of the owner was found on it, and he was sent for, then indeed it found the master-hand, the only one who could right it; she did not need Dr. Hurlbut's glowing application. "So He who made us, and engraved his name, his image, on our bodies, can alone take our hearts and make them right." Flossy listened to this and the sentences that followed, thrilling her heart with their power and beauty—thrilling as they would not have done one week ago, for did she not know by actual experience just how blessed a worker the great Maker was? Had she not carried her heart to him, and had he not left his indelible impression there? Oh, this was a wonderful meeting to Flossy—one that she will never forget—one that many others will have reason to remember, because of the way in which she listened. But was it not strange, the way in which her education was being cared for? After tea she stood at the entrance of the tent, looking out for the girls—looking out, also, on the cool, quiet sunset and the glory spread everywhere, for there had been sunshine that day, part of the time, and there was a clear sun setting. Under her arm she held the treasure which she had in the morning determined to possess—a good, plain, large-print Bible, not at all like the velvet-covered one that lay on her toilet-stand at home, but such as the needs of Bible students at Chautauqua had demanded, and therefore much better fitted for actual service than the velvet. Among the many passers-by came Mrs. Smythe. She halted before Flossy. "Good-evening. I thought your party must have left. I haven't seen you since Thursday. Haven't you been fearfully bored? We are going to leave on Monday morning—going to Saratoga. Don't some of you want to join us? "I don't know," Flossy said, thoughtfully mindful of Ruth and her plan that had not worked. "It is possible that Miss Erskine may. Do your entire party go?" "Oh, not my nephew, of course! Nothing could tear him away. He is perfectly charmed with all this singing and praying and preaching, but I confess it is too much of a good thing for me. I am not intellectually inclined, I like the music very well, and some of the addresses are fine; but there is such a thing as carrying meetings to excess." At this point she turned quickly at the sound of a firm step behind her, and greeted a young man. "Speak of angels and you hear their wings, or the squeak of their boots," she said. "We were just talking about you, Evan. My nephew, Mr. Roberts, Miss Shipley. I believe you have never met before." Had they not! There was a heightened flush on the cheek of each as they shook hands. It was clear that each recognized the other. "Are we strangers?" he asked, with a bright smile, speaking so low that Mrs. Smythe, whose attention had already wandered from them to a group who were passing, did not hear the words, "On the contrary, I think we are related, though I do not know that we have happened to hear each other's names before." Flossy understood the relationship—sons and daughters of one Father—for she knew this was the young man who had twice questioned her concerning her allegiance to that Father. Also, she remembered him as the only one whom she had ever heard pray for her. Mrs. Smythe called out a gay good-evening to them, and joined a party of friends, and Mr. Roberts leaned against a tree and prepared to cultivate the acquaintance of his newly-found relative. "You have one of those large, sensible-looking Bibles, I see," he said. "I have been very much tempted, but I could not make myself feel that I really needed one." "I really needed mine," Flossy said, smiling. "I left my Bible at home. I had not such a thought as bringing it along. I feel now as if I had a treasure that I didn't know how to use. It is quite new to me. I don't know where to read first, but I suppose it makes no difference." "Indeed it does make great difference," he said, smiling, "and you will enjoy finding out how to read it. Chautauqua is a good place for such a study, and the Bible reading this evening is an excellent place to commence. Are you going?" "Yes, indeed!" Flossy said, with brightening eyes. "I have been looking forward to it all day. I can't think what a Bible reading is. Do they just read verses in the Bible?" "Yes," he said, smiling. "It is just Bible verses, with a word of explanation now and then and a little singing. But the Bible verses are something remarkable, as you will see. It is nearly time for service. Are you ready? Shall we walk down and secure seats?" So they went down together it the early twilight, and took seats under the trees amid the glowing of brilliant lights and the soft sound of music coming from the piano on the stand. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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